


He Called Me 'Love'

by ImpossibleClair



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Beheaded Cousins, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Protective Family, an encounter at the stage door triggers an attack for Kat, anna is Very Protective, anne taking care of kitty is too good not to write, because we all need jane being a mum to kitty, could take it as KatAnna if you like, cue angst, i'm sorry kitty i love you, inspired by a song lyric, mum jane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossibleClair/pseuds/ImpossibleClair
Summary: It's been a long time since Kat heard that word from anyone other than the queens, and she's not prepared for the storm it casts her into.(Inspired by the lyric in All You Wanna Do)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 190





	He Called Me 'Love'

It was a very common term of endearment, especially among the queens.

‘Morning, love,’ Jane would say when Kat came down for breakfast in the mornings.

‘Great show, loves,’ Cathy would tell them at the end of a night on stage.

‘Shh, love, it's alright,’ Anne would soothe when her cousin woke crying from night terrors.

But something about the casual ‘Hello, love!’ from the man at the stage door sent Kat into a spiral. She could see people waving at her, holding out programs and pens and shouting her name, but it was as though it had all fallen behind a veil. She couldn’t break through, couldn’t make herself smile and sign things and shake hands. Her eyes were locked on the face of the man who had spoken, and all she could hear was the memory of voices she’d thought she was safe from.

She didn’t hear the cries of disappointment or the concerned gasps as she turned and bolted back into the theatre. The only sound in her mind was that dreadful word in the sickly tones of Mannox, Dereham, Henry, _Culpeper_ -

She burst into the dressing room and slammed the door behind her, flattening herself against it, trying to breathe, just _breathe, Katherine, it's not real!_

But it had been real, such a long time ago, and the swirl of the past coming to the front of her mind made her feel sick.

She sank to the floor, hands over her ears, trying to block it all out. It wasn’t working. Her head was ringing with the memories. Her stomach was churning, her skin was crawling. She couldn’t breathe. Where was she? What was happening? Why wouldn’t the voices just leave her alone?

She screamed, just to drown the voices, anything to drown those horrible sounds...

Someone hammered on the door.

‘Kitty! Kit, are you in there?’

Kat could only whimper in reply.

‘Kit, open up! It’s me!’

She couldn't move, couldn't uncurl herself from the ball she'd folded into.

‘Kitkat...’

The voice outside the door softened, and Kat felt the memories quieten a little, as if making room for her to listen.

‘Kit, it's me. It’s Anne, your cousin. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.’

She was not okay. Nowhere _near_ okay. She was scrambling for something to hold onto, something to pull her out of the quicksand of her trauma which was threatening to suffocate her. She heard Anne’s voice, and took it for her lifeline.

‘An- Annie?’

‘I’m here. Can I come in?’

Kat reached up, found the doorknob and used it to drag herself to her feet. It took her a few tries to get the door open, but when she did, Anne was through it like a cannonball. She pulled up a bit short of tackling Kat into a hug, highly aware that she could be touch-averse during her panic attacks.

‘Kitty.’ She sounded both relieved and concerned. ‘Are you okay?’

Kat shook her head, biting her lip to keep down the sobs. She held out her arms, and Anne swiftly embraced her, enfolding her in a protective hug. She murmured softly, hushing Kat as she whimpered.

‘Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m here. It’s all okay, Kitkat, you’re safe.’

Kat clung to the voice as much as she clung to the person, willing it to wash away the terrible memories. One by one the voices of the past faded, and the sounds of the real world filtered back in. She kept her focus on Anne’s voice until it no longer felt like she was going to crumble into pieces.

*

The drive home was a bit tense. Between Kat’s fragile state, Anne’s restless concern, Anna’s rage and Jane’s weary anxiety over all of them, the car was emotionally stifling.

Anne had taken off after Kat when she’d fled, while Anna had flown into a rage at the man who had spoken to her and had to be restrained by Parr and Aragon before she exacted some kind of violent vengeance for whatever it was he’d done to their baby. They’d left the stage door early, collected Kat and Anne, and snuck out the back way to avoid any further encounters.

Anna sat with Kat in the back seat, a protective arm over her shoulders the entire ride home. Kat, feeling emotionally battered and very vulnerable, was more than happy to lean into Anna’s steady form. Anne, sitting on her other side, held her hand, their fingers laced tight.

Agreeing to leave the discussion for tomorrow, they all headed toward bed when they finally got home. Everyone hugged Kat on their way past, but Anna and Anne stayed at her side until everyone else had turned in.

They were all sitting on Kat’s bed when Jane knocked on the open door.

‘Hello, dears,’ she said softly. ‘All okay?’

Anna and Anne looked to Kat, who nodded, though her lip wobbled slightly. Jane wasn’t one to miss such a detail. She stepped into the room.

‘Tag out, you two,’ she addressed Anne and Anna. ‘Mum’s turn, I think.’

The others exchanged a look, but there was no sense arguing with the matriarch. Kat would be in safe hands.

They bid the youngest queen goodnight, Anna giving her a hug and Anne kissing the top of her head. They closed the door behind them, casting back reluctant looks.

Jane sat herself down on the bed and held out her arms, and Kat wasted no time crawling into them and curling up. They stayed there for a little while, Kat taking in Jane’s saccharine scent and comforting warmth, letting them enfold her in a layer of safety. All of the queens could make her feel safe, but Jane’s safety also made her feel warm, and innocent, and right now, that’s what she desperately needed.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jane asked eventually, breaking the fragile silence.

A burst of memories flared in Kat’s mind, whispering harshly in her ear, and she winced, curling tighter in Jane’s arms. Immediately Jane hushed her, holding her tighter. The memories retreated.

‘It’s okay, kitten,’ Jane soothed. ‘You’re safe. I’m here.’

Kat sighed shakily and tucked her head into the curve of Jane’s shoulder.

‘It was that man, wasn’t it?’ Jane asked after a few moments. ‘The one at the stage door?’

Kat swallowed, feeling panic thicken in her throat.

‘He called me “love.” Henry used to do that.’ Her voice faltered. ‘They all did…’

She felt Jane stiffen. The hand that had been rubbing her back stilled for a second.

‘We call you “love” all the time, Kat.’

‘But it’s _different._ ’

Kat was trembling, feeling the force of that quicksand tugging at her again and trying to resist it.

‘When it’s you, any of you, it’s different because I know you _care_. I know your voices, I know what you mean when you speak. But with _them_ … with _anyone_ else…’

Her throat closed and she couldn’t continue, but she didn’t need to. She felt Jane resume rubbing circles on her back, pulling her closer to kiss the top of her head.

‘I’m so sorry, kitten,’ she murmured. ‘I’d change it if I could. I’d make it all better if I had the chance.’

There were tears on Kat’s face, but she couldn’t remember when she started crying.

‘I know,’ she whispered.

She cried for a time, quietly, letting Jane hold her and murmur softly until she finally ran out of tears. Jane tucked her into bed. She was too exhausted to resist, and didn’t even need to ask for Jane to stay. The motherly queen lay down beside her, promising softly not to leave until she was asleep.

Could she ever sleep? She doubted it. Though she was heavy with tiredness and her eyes would barely open, her mind refused to quieten. She would slip halfway to darkness and then a remembered voice would jerk her awake with a flash of panic.

Jane soothed her each time, running a gentle hand over her hair until her eyes closed again. It went on for hours; hours of excruciating tension on the verge of peace. If she could just push past that ridge of fear and tumble into sleep…

‘Shh, it’s okay, love,’ came Jane’s voice in the night. ‘Go to sleep. It’s okay.’

And there was no panic. No rush of fear, no whirlwind of memories. Just warmth, and a gentle wave of love to finally lull her into sleep.


End file.
